


The Long Night

by aresvera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Hates Sand, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Child Leia Organa, Child Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader Raises Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader Redemption, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Dreams and Nightmares, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Hurt/Comfort, Imperial Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker Raised Together, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Mentioned Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mentioned Padmé Amidala, Mentioned Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Parent Darth Vader, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Planet Mustafar (Star Wars), Protective Darth Vader, Suitless Darth Vader, Twins, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Young Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aresvera/pseuds/aresvera
Summary: AU Story in which Luke and Leia Skywalker grow up on Imperial Center with their suitless Dad Vader.Luke and Leia wait for their father to get home from a particularly bad day at the Detention Center. Pragmatic Leia worries about her father's physical state, while dreamer Luke will go on a Force-journey into his father's emotional past. Can you heal someone who doesn't believe they deserve it?
Relationships: Leia Organa & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader
Comments: 58
Kudos: 146





	1. And the galaxy quakes!

Leia sat at the square metal table in the living room. It looked more like a chef’s prep station than a child’s desk, but she enjoyed working there. She sat on a high stool with one leg dangling and the other tucked beneath her as she scrolled through her data pad. She fidgeted on her seat and tugged at her long, neat braid of deep brown hair. Luke watched her and wondered when she would finally fold. He knew she was bored, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

“Whatcha reading?” Luke asked from his perch on the couch. He had positioned himself upside-down, feet hanging over the back and blood rushing to his head. Admittedly he was bored too.

He had finished his homework for the weekend and there was nothing good on the holonet this late at night… At least, not with the parental controls still enabled. Luke knew how to disable them, but that hadn’t gone over so well last time when their father found out.

Leia let out a groan and looked ready to slam her head against the data pad. “It’s about _soil_ , and _soil qualities_ , and loam and clay and _dirt_! I’m not even sure we have dirt on Coruscant.”

Luke flinched. “Don’t you mean Imperial Center?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Daddy’s not here. You can _say_ Coruscant.”

“But… what if… I mean, there could be bugs. You know, for the _hooded guy_ ,” Luke said, gesturing toward the window that looked directly at the palace. Leia gave him a dead pan stare.

“Daddy wouldn’t let him bug our house. Don’t be overly paranoid.”

“Still…”

“Still _nothing_ , Luke. It’s referred to as Imperial Center, but underneath that, it’s still Coruscant.”

Luke smirked at her argument and pushed his long blond bangs off of his forehead. “So maybe you should care about the dirt after all, since that’s its name.”

“Ugh,” she carped loudly. “I _care_ about the politics of the planet! Just not… the microbial qualities of dirt I can’t touch or see…”

“Fair enough,” Luke grinned. His face was glowing red from being upside for so long.

Leia smiled back. She hopped off her chair and came to sit by her brother, who righted himself to share the couch with her. “You’re the last person who should criticize my lack of interest in sand…”

“No, _Dad_ is.”

“Ha- _ha_. No, what I mean, Space Cadet, is all you care about is up there,” she gestured to the skies.

Luke nodded in agreement and followed her finger towards the… ceiling. _Great_. He sighed. He wished their father would leave the balcony unlocked so they could still stargaze… not that you could actually _see_ the stars on Coru— _Imperial Center_. Not with all the light pollution. But even so, Luke loved gazing up and just knowing the galaxy was out there.

Leia watched his miffed stare. She pulled her braid across her shoulder to play with its tail and reminded him, “That one was your fault.”

“I _know_ ,” he said sharply and shot her a glare. That made her grin. She loved ruffling his feathers. It was _too easy_ , but still enjoyable. 

Anyway, how could he forget? All the trouble around here was usually Luke’s fault. He was accident prone, sort of. Okay, okay, maybe a bit mischievous too. But it was _so boring_ here. Especial when their father had to work long hours, which was more often than any of them would have liked.

And being the _protective papa-bear_ he was, as Leia would say, everything _fun_ was locked while he was gone. Not just the balcony, but the hangar, the sparing room, the conference room and the library. They basically only had access to their bedrooms, the ‘fresher and the kitchen. Luke wanted to point out that when he was at the detention center, he was kind enough to turn his home into one for his children, but he couldn’t imagine that bringing a laugh.

 _It doesn’t warrant one because it’s not funny,_ Leia said into his head.

“Hey!” Luke grumped. “Stay out of my mind.”

“Then keep your shields up. And don’t compare our quarters to the detention center.”

“I wasn’t actually going to…”

“Good. Because if you had any idea the things he actually did there…”

“Leia.”

She folded her arms crossly and bit her tongue as much as she could. “It’s _not_ right,” she seethed.

“You sound like a rebel,” Luke said and raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t think Dad would like that anymore than my attempt at humor.”

“I’m _not_ a rebel,” Leia hissed and stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, real mature!” Luke objected.

She turned her nose up at him. “I’m a humanitarian.”

“You don’t even know what that word means,” Luke grumbled.

“Yes I do! It means I care about sentient life!”

“You ate bantha steak for dinner.”

“So..?”

“Aren’t banthas _sentient_? Don't they feel pain?”

Leia looked perplexed for a moment before nodding her head assuredly. “You’re right. From now on, I’m a vegetarian.”

Luke put his face in his hands, “Oh no… Leia… Look, do whatever you want, but don’t blame me when you tell Dad that. I just got un-grounded!”

“I’ll take it into consideration,” she smirked.

Luke leaned back against the velvet fabric and closed his eyes. He was getting tired. Maybe they should go to bed…

“Mom was a humanitarian,” Leia said softly.

Luke sat up quickly and studied his twin’s face. “Who told you that?”

“Artoo.”

“You don’t speak binary!”

“Not _fluently_ , but enough. And he showed me.”

“A new video?? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I’m telling you now.”

“I wish Artoo was here,” Luke whined. He loved that droid.

Leia grinned at her grumpy twin. “He is more fun than Threepio.”

“Don’t…!” Luke jumped, but the sound was detected, breaking his temporary disablement. There was a loud clattering that sounded like pots and pans falling in the utility closet.

“So that’s where you put him,” Leia said, watching for the closet door to open.

 _Swoosh_ , and the golden bot appeared, stumbling to get his footing at first, then trudged down the hall to them, just slightly more flustered than normal.

“Master Luke! That was _very rude_! I have a mind to comm your father about this—this— _mutiny_!”

“And say what, Threepio? That I fixed your hand and made sure you were fully charged?”

“I—well—” Threepio stammered as he looked at his left hand that had been broken previously in a dualling accident – for once by Leia’s mistake and not his. “I suppose that does feel better,” Threepio said as he flexed his golden digits. “Thank you, Master Luke. But I still cannot condone you locking me in the cleaning closet, as if I were a maid-droid!” the response was haughty. Threepio hated becoming compared to _lesser bots_.

“Of course you’re not a maid-droid, Threepio,” Leia said with a teasing glint in her eyes. “You’re a wonderfully nanny-droid.”

“I—I most certainly _am not_!” the bot huffed. “I am a protocol droid!”

“ _Human Cyborg Relation_ s, we know,” the twins chorus, passing each other amused looks.

Threepio huffed once more, looking between them. “You two would be better handled by stormtroopers than nanny-droids.”

“Fair enough,” Luke shrugged.

“But you’d miss us,” said Leia with a sweet smile.

Threepio looked around the room, twisting at the hip left and right. “Where is Artoo?”

“Dad took him today. His shuttle needed repairs.”

“Ah yes. Speaking of Master Anakin…”

“He doesn’t like it when you call him that.”

“… It is far past your predesignated bedtimes.” Threepio looked at the children expectantly, but they did not react. “Which means you must go to bed, at once.”

“Did you remember to bring the stormtroopers to enforce that?” Leia quipped.

“Miss Leia! I’m surprised at you.”

“Yeah, you’re entering _Luke-territory_ ,” her brother smiled. “Should I be happy or threatened?”

“If by threatened, you mean aware that I can do mischief better than you, then yes,” she replied.

“A humanitarian and a rebel,” Luke pretended to consider it deeply. He looked back up at Leia’s proud face. “And the galaxy quakes!”

She stuck out her tongue, as she pulled the band out of her braid and began undoing it with her fingers, letting her shiny waves free.

“Children!” Threepio exclaimed, attempting to take control again. “I must insist you observe your set sleeping hours or I will have no choice but…”

“… _to comm Master Ani_ , we know,” Luke cut him off.

Threepio blustered gibberish before stating again, “How rude! To think I once considered the two of you adorable…”

“Aw c’mon, Threepio. We’re still adorable,” Luke said with a wide grin. “And we should be able to stay up later than 21:00 on a weekend.”

“Should and are, are two very different words, Master Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the grammar lesson.”

“So, Miss Leia, Master Luke, what will it be? Are you going to bed or am I comm-ing your father?”

Leia looked up from undoing her braid and her eyes flashed with an idea. “ _Neither_ ,” she replied and closed her eyes, letting out a deep and steady breath.

Luke felt the electricity in the air and nearly jumped with excitement. Leia stretched out in the Force and triggered Threepio’s snooze-mode, one their father installed for when he needed a break from the chatty droid, _and_ one the twins were not allowed to use.

Luke’s face lit up, stunned and delighted. “You’re in deep Luke-territory now.”

Leia ignored him as she raked her fingers through her now fully loose locks.

“No I’m serious. And thrilled, by the way. Maybe I won’t be the only one grounded this time.”

Leia turned her nose up at him as she spun her hair in a circle, making one twisted tendril before rolling that into a bun on top of her head. “Daddy’s never grounded _me_.”

“You’ve never disabled Threepio before,” Luke said with a shrugging gesture toward the frozen droid. Leia was disinterested by the idea, brushing it off with a roll of her eyes.

“Can I play with your hair?” she asked, as she finished pinning her bun in place.

“Okay, but no pigtails this time,” he said, scooting closer to her. Leia loved doing hair. She was talented at her own, but liked to use her brother for tight braid or mohawk practice. Last time, she put two high pigtails on top of his head that looked like they belonged on a toddler and Artoo had captured the image to Luke’s dismay.

“Fine,” she said as she used her fingers to card through her brother’s golden blond hair that he let grow longer than most of the other boys their age. She made thoughtful sections and began practicing different braiding styles.

Luke let her fuss for one full round of his head, before he was done and wiggled out of her reach. They barely agreed on an old movie to re-watch, one that was mainly Leia’s choice but at least had one decent battle scene, so Luke begrudgingly accepted. They put it on, both zoning out on the couch, cuddled up to each other, not that they would ever acknowledge it.

It was unspoken, like so many things in their twin bond. That they took care of each other, that they had each other’s backs. Luke thought about it, how much he and Leia could fight and compete with each other, but how there wasn’t anyone else in the galaxy he was as close to. It was _always_ Luke and Leia, together, through everything. Dad was gone a lot, their friends came and went over the years, and different nannies had never lasted. They had no extended family, no aunts or uncles or cousins or grandparents. Just them. Luke and Leia, and sometimes Dad.

Luke frowned as he thought about his father, whom he loved _deeply_ , but who felt more like a stranger lately. Sometimes, that love hurt him more than it comforted him. He missed their dad. He knew he didn’t want to be away, necessarily, but it was hard to reconcile that. He was gone so much that it was becoming the norm. And with Luke acting up now more as an under-stimulated eleven-year-old, they were more apt to bump heads than not. 

It was a quarter past midnight when the movie finished. They let the credits roll, too lazy to switch it off or find something else.

Just as Luke thought they might both drift to sleep, they felt the most tentative _nudge_ of their father’s Force against theirs. Both children’s eyes widened and they sat from their lounging positions, turning quickly to face each other.

The thought was simultaneous. _How_ , with all the time they had wasted this evening, _how_ had they not agreed on an explanation as to why they were up so late?

They knew their father’s prod was to see if they were asleep, which - _spoiler alert_ \- they weren’t. But it was strange too, with how quickly it had retracted. They spoke that shared curiosity to each other without needing words. Normally this was the time for a stern baritone to ring in their ears with a scolding demand that they _better_ _get your butts in bed before I get home!_

The comm buzzed in the kitchen. Leia raised her brows as Luke scooted away from the call to clear her path as he sent her, _Not It!_

She lifted her lip into an arch and _uched_ at him as she scooted herself off the couch to go answer. _Coward_ , she sent to her brother, and he responded with his tongue out at her.

“Hi Daddy…” she answered, tone light and shy.

“ _Don’t_ stick your tongue out at your sister!” their father barked.

Luke almost fell off the couch.

“Now, why are you _not_ in bed?!”

“We wanted to wait up for you, Daddy,” Leia said. “You promised…”

“I _know_ what I promised!” he snapped at Leia. She flinched, which was the most she would show of being nervous.

Luke scrambled to his feet to join Leia at the comm. “Dad, it’s my fault, I…”

“I don’t care _whose_ fault it is,” their father snarled. “Both of you get to bed _at once_. Am I clear?”

Before Luke could quickly promise _yes sir_ , Leia pushed her brother back to signal she was again taking control of this conversation. “Why are you comm-ing?”

“I believe the reason for my call is obvious…”

“No, why are you using the _comm_ , and not the Force?”

“Leia…” he warned her.

“You’re hiding something!”

“Young lady, that is enough!” His voice rolled like distance thunder. “My patience is _non-existent_ tonight, if you haven’t noticed. I will be home shortly and I better not see either of your faces…”

“Why not?” Leia retorted. “Unless it’s _your face_ you don’t want us to see.”

The apartment shook, as if an earthquake had struck. Luke and Leia grasped each other for strength and braced against the trembling walls. The air became freezing cold, as if all the heat had been sucked out and replaced with air from Hoth.

“You _will_ go to your rooms _at once_!!” he bellowed at them with an ugly growl rounding out his words. “I have been undermined in my own home enough for a lifetime! And I will _not_ hear a single solitary _sound_ out of you two until morning!”

The comm clicked off. The quaking stopped as abruptly as it had started. The air returned to normal temperature.

Luke and Leia grasped hard to each other’s forearms and breathed.

“Something’s not right with Daddy, and you know it,” Leia said, pulling him closer to stare into his skittish blue eyes. He was ready to run to his room and hide under the covers, but Leia wouldn’t let this go. Not when everything in her screamed that something was _wrong_ , deeply wrong.

Before he could reply, they both heard his ship land in the hangar. They were out of time. “Come on,” Luke urged, pulling Leia down the hall.

“No, Luke, we can’t,” Leia argued, as she struggled against him, dragging her feet to stay.

“Leia, please, not when he’s like _this_. You don’t know what he’s like…”

Leia took offense and flashed her teeth. She tried to pry Luke’s hand off of hers. “And _you_ do?!”

“ _Yes_ I do - now let’s go!”

Luke fixed his hold on Leia and tugged her to her door, pushing her in the femininely appointed bedroom that was a mixed palette of lilacs, white and silver, just as the main entrance blast doors hissed open. He could feel the cold rage wafting through the air again. Leia grabbed the collar of his shirt before he could make a break for his own room, and pulled him deeper into hers. She closed her door and they both crouched against it, pressing their ears to listen…

A chill ran down their spines as the stomp of determined boots entered their home, pausing to look around an undoubtedly messy living room and frozen Threepio. There was a grunt of disgust before the heavy boots started again, marching down the hall.

The twins closed their eyes. It felt like time slowed as the boots grew near, pausing again by their doors. Once more they felt a reluctant and fast brush of the Force, checking that they were near for only a split second before retreating again.

Leia tried to grasp her father’s Force presence, but it was like trying to clench a fist around the wind. His boots started again, no more pauses needed, as he made it to his chambers, the blast doors opening before he arrived and closing with a _click_ behind him.

Locked… _Damn it_ , Leia sighed, her chest falling, as her worried thoughts swelled. _What could be so wrong? Was it the Emperor? Had something happened? Did he hurt Daddy?... Or was he just irritable?... Did they do something wrong? He couldn’t be this mad about bedtime...or Threepio…could he?_

“Leia,” Luke snapped her out of it. He was still crouched beside her, his nervous blue eyes scanning her face. “I have to go to my room, just in case he checks…”

“No,” she replied, her determination locking into place.

Luke’s eyes widened as he saw her forming a plan. “No…” he tried to plead. “Whatever it is, just no! It’s been a long night and I’m sure we’ll talk about it tomorrow anyway.”

She stood up and offered a hand to help Luke rise as well. He bit his lip but accepted. She leaned back on her heels to pull him up, and then she opened the door to the hall. She went first, leading him on her tip toes toward their father’s door. Once Luke realized, he silently began to thrash and yank the other way, towards _his_ room.

_Leia, you’re not just playing with fire, okay?! You’re playing with a nuclear reactor! Dad’s in full Sith-mode. Don’t be dumb!_

_Come on, don’t be a scaredy-lothcat._

_I don’t think worrying about a *literal Sith_ * _counts…!_

_Stop fighting me! We have to make sure he’s okay. That’s more important than being in trouble._

_Leia…_

_Please, Luke! I can only do it if you help me._

_Ughhh_ , Luke let his last protest fly through the Force before he stopped fighting. Leia didn’t ask for help often. He couldn’t think of a time when she did that he had actually said no. 

The twins approached his door, a large metal blast shield that was similar to the others in the apartment, except right now it was coated in a thin film of ice. _How cold did it have to be in that room for ice to form on the door?_ Luke grimaced at it, but decided if this _stupid_ plan was really happening, and apparently Leia wasn’t going to change her mind, then the time for fretting was over. Luke exhaled, to see if his breath would hang in the air. It didn’t, so at least that meant their father was containing his rage to his own quarters…which they were now attempting to break into… _nope, brain off, please and thank you_.

He placed his hands on his father’s locked door, scratching gently at the frozen condensation with his fingernails. It flaked and melted and then re-froze. He gestured towards it silently, but Leia acted as if it wasn’t even there. She stood beside him and placed her hands firmly, melting her prints through the frost.

Alone, they couldn’t break his lock. And even together, they weren’t stronger in the Force than he was. But when the joined their energies, they had learned a few small tricks to make his life as a parent just _a little_ harder. If he had been focusing on them, they wouldn’t have stood a chance, but he was distracted and clearly thought he’d been scary enough to send them to bed without further complaint. When Luke considered this, he realized their dad must have been _really_ distracted, if he actually thought meanness would deter Leia.

 _Nothing_ deterred Leia.

She looked at her brother and almost mustered an encouraging smile for him. Her brown eyes sparkled with confidence. Luke felt awe struck. He wanted to ask her how she did that, maybe he would get to later, if he remembered. 

_One… two… three!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for more background on this AU, here ya go!
> 
> Luke and Leia are pre-teens, still very much kids, but both of them would like to be viewed as older than they are. They are beginning to rebel more but still crave security and family structure, and want to make their father proud. They are in the midst of their own coming-of-age as they become more aware of the Empire's implications on the galaxy and learning more about their parents' pasts.
> 
> Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker is suitless. He would have still lost his legs on Mustafar but he retains one flesh hand. He has prosthetics but was placed in a bacta tank for about 6 months after he was injured and, as a result, is mostly healed save for a few scars. He has his hair and full function of his lungs, so the suit is more of an intimidation/protection armor that he will wear only in battle/command of his fleet. 
> 
> For this story, he accepts being a Sith, but hates his Master. He only serves to keep his children safe and because he thinks he has to, but he has no love for the Emperor or the Empire (but he's not fully convinced it's worse than the old republic, which he still hates - probably more). 
> 
> Padme still died in childbirth, but Vader would have always known about the twins being born and would have retrieved them when they were about 6-8 months old, once he was out of the bacta. 
> 
> Obi-wan is alive. Upon picking up Luke from Tatooine, Vader banished him (unable to kill him at the end) to Dagobah, where Yoda escaped with the former younglings of the Jedi Temple (because in this story, Vader never killed younglings). 
> 
> Vader allows Obi-wan, the Lars's and the Organa's clemency for stealing his children only because he believes they spared the children from being capture by the Emperor while Vader was incapacitated in the tank.
> 
> Let me know if you want more background! Otherwise, it might be another story down the road. 
> 
> \--  
> Next chapter should be up in a few days! Thanks for reading!  
> 


	2. A Sith-Induced Ice Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins attempt to bring a Sith-Dad out of the darkside's hold and back into reality. The confrontation will leave one twin undeterred and the other in tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning that this chapter includes mention of injury and a slightly gore-y bit. TW for blood 🩸

The thing about blast shields is there’s no quiet way to open them. It had always made sneaking around on Dad’s ship difficult when they were younger. _Maybe that was why he had them installed in our home too.._.

 _He did that for safety_ , Leia answered. _Now shields up!_

Luke wanted to rebuke her for being in his head again, but she was right. He was tempted to leave them down just to spite her. On any other night he would have. It drove her crazy when he left them down all the way and just loudly projected nonsense into the Force. It was their sibling equivalent of _you’re breathing too heavy!_ , except far more annoying.

But now was not the time for petty teasing, as they crept along the anterior hall in their father’s chamber, cautious of the ice forming on the floor. They resisted the urge to hold their bare arms against the cold. Their standard Imperial Academy uniforms, which they were too lazy to change out of, were ideal for temperate Coruscant weather but offered little protection against a Sith-induced ice age.

Leia tugged at the sleeves of her white collared shirt and rued her decision to wear the optional tartan pleated skirt today. At least Luke had long pants. Their shirts were identical, with the school’s galactic emblem on their left breastplates. Luke tugged at his shirt too and sent her, _at least we have socks?_ She nodded, as she let her bun out so that her long chestnut hair could offer some additional coverage for her arms. Then she reached another foot forward, to continue slowly dragging herself down their father’s private hall.

His quarters weren’t just a bedroom, like theirs were. He had a small collection of additional rooms before his sleeping quarters, ones he didn’t want the children to have access to. He had a weapon’s closet, which was the only room in the apartment that Luke had never successfully broken into. _Closet_ was a poor name for it, Luke thought. It was nearly the size of another bedroom! He had only glimpsed inside a small handful of times, when his dad needed to retrieve something specific. It was like an arms museum in there. Everything was perfectly displayed and secured and organized. He wondered if anyone could truly need that many unique weapons.

The next room was a small mediation chamber that consisted of a few Force relics their father had collected over the years and single padded matt on the floor. It was meant to be minimal and bare. It was also the only completely soundproof room in their home. Luke remembered a time when Leia was prone to _shrieking_ at an ear-piercing decibel when she didn’t get her way, and their father briefly repurposed this space as her personal time-out room.

He had a private office, which he rarely used. Dad preferred to work in the conference room so the kids could be by him, only choosing to come back here when the subject material was too sensitive, or when the twins got too out of hand for him to focus. Or if the Emperor was calling. Although he usually used the meditation room for those calls.

Then he had the standard ‘fresher, closet and sleeping area, though the twins knew he used the meditation pad and his bed practically equal. When they woke in the night, they still checked there first before going to his bedside.

 _That’s where he’ll be_ , Leia sent to Luke, pointing to the door that led to the mediation chamber. Luke reached out with the Force to check her suspicion. _Not here_ , the Force called to him as he tested the room. He grimaced as his mind griped _please not the armory_.

Leia shot him a glare for thinking that. Luke tried to raise his shields again. He really ought to practice more. _Check the others_ , she instructed. Luke reached out, pressing into the office and the ‘fresher. _Nope_. He pressed forward into the bedroom and found his father’s presence there, perhaps sitting on the bed? A flare of unfocused anger pressed back against him.

That was strange. Usually Sith-dad didn’t sit on his bed, preferring to rage in the peace of the meditation chamber, wrapping himself deep in the darkside, until it overtook him, nearly erasing the line between man and Sith. But never _fully_. He would linger in the darkside for hours, before something pulled him out, some sliver thread that he never lost hold of.

“That’s you two,” their father had told them when they asked. As long as he had the children, he would never fully depart into the darkness, much to his master’s vexation. Luke didn’t dare wonder what his father would be like if he gave in wholly, or… if there would ever come a day when he couldn’t pull himself back out.

The twins slid their socked feet across the icy floor until they reached the end of the hall which opened into a minimally appointed bedroom. He had dark furniture, a large bed with black sheets, black window drapes that were pulled closed more often than not, and gray stone flooring. The only color in the room were the holos of the children that he kept on display. It was strange to Luke, to catch a glimpse of his own joyous face in a frozen image, while he was barely keeping his cool now.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Because _there_ he was, Dad, sitting on his bed. His usually tall and board figure was hunched over, nursing a gruesome injury. He had managed to keep himself silent, but Luke could see their father was sweating through the pain, dark robes slick to his body, biting his own lips bloody not to howl. Luke couldn’t get a direct view at the injury, but he could see the blood splattered on the floor around his father’s boots.

 _Don’t get sick,_ Luke told himself as his stomach flipped at the sight.

 _At least it’s his own blood_ , Leia sent her brother.

Luke understood the hint, but that hardly made him feel better. He felt a sharp pang of guilt, as he realized he wished it was _only_ someone else’s blood, regardless of the moral implications of that.

Their father had dropped the towel he must have been clutching to the wound during his flight home and was doing his best to tend to the open gash. His arms moved and they heard the distinct clack of a surgical stapler. Their father grunted and fired off a few more in whatever patch he was holding shut, before dabbing away any excess blood that might obscure his view with oil stained mechanic rags.

Luke’s stomach almost gave out. _He needs to go to the med-bay,_ he sent his twin.

Her face was a stonewall, void of any disturbance at watching their father patch himself up. She replied with a snarky, _Fat chance! He’d have to be on his deathbed to get dragged back there._

That was true. The last time he’d been taken to the med-bay, he had nearly exploded it upon waking up. He loathed the idea of being stuck there, like he was after the twins were born. He said it was the greatest agony of his life – not just the injuries, but knowing they were out there, his babies, sensing them through the Force and not being able to break out of the bacta tank.

It had nearly driven him insane.

Any treatments that felt restraining were refused without exception. Luke didn’t think much of it when they were small. But he became distinctly aware of the difference their father paid between his health and theirs as he got older.

Whenever they had so much as scraped their knees, Dad had _carried_ them to a med-droid and demanded an over application of bacta. As a result, neither twin had even so much as a faded scar on their bodies. Meanwhile, Dad was covered in old and new, often poorly treated, scars and burn marks. He told the twins he had developed an allergy for bacta. _Lie,_ the Force had echoed.

They used to have a personal med-droid that lived in the hangar and treated their Dad on his ship before he would enter the home. But it administered an unrequested anesthesia for a particularly bad shoulder injury and Dad had imploded it with the Force. Fixing it was a non-option. And Dad refused a new one, paranoid that it would be bugged or linked to the Emperor somehow. He had planned to build a replacement from scratch, but he hadn’t had the time yet… And, to be honest, Luke wasn’t sure that his dad could even build a med-droid. Those were highly specialized with medical instruments and protocols, well beyond standard droids…no offense Artoo and Threepio…

Leia broke the silence. “Those are unclean,” she said, scolding him for using hangar rags on himself. “And you need a med-droid.”

Their father flinched, startled, and turned only his head at them, refusing to show his damage fully. His face was snarled like an animal, his Force presence was like twisted knots of darkness, so alive in its fury, it was almost suffocating. He pushed out against them, attempting to repell them back down the hall.

“Daddy…!” Leia whimpered, holding her feet grounded and leaning heavily against the Dark Force.

“ _GET OUT_ ,” their father roared, as he pulled the Force around himself, obscuring their view of him, as if a mist of black starlight swirled between them.

Luke raised strong shields around himself and his twin, stepping forward, prepared to block anything their dad might send in his fury. He would do anything to protect Leia, even if that meant stupidly stepping out in front of an angry Sith.

But Leia wasn’t having it. She pushed around Luke and stood steady.

“We aren’t going anywhere!” she responded through the tremors in her voice.

“Remove your sister, boy, if you know what’s good for you,” their father spoke through a clenched jaw, realizing fast that the yelling wasn’t helping to convince Leia of anything.

His darkness was so powerful, Luke’s shield began to crack, letting hissing whispers break in. Luke clenched. He hated how the darkside loved to chatter, a ghostly rabble of malicious thoughts and unspoken insecurities, attempting to sway and entice, promises of power. The gusts swirled around the twins, fragmenting whatever was left of the barrier. 

“Leia,” Luke whispered and tried to put his hand on her. He wanted to tell her it was enough. He wanted to say, _we checked, he’ll live! Let’s make sure we live too._ But he didn’t get the chance.

She pulled her wrist away from him and growled, “If you touch me now, I will _take_ your hand.”

Luke flinched at the certainty in his sister’s voice. He had heard their father get mean before, but he’d never heard Leia say anything like _that_ before. It hurt, more than he’d like to admit.

“Leia…” he gasped, unable to read her face.

Their father grunted, “ _This_ is why.”

What kind of answer was that? Luke wondered in disgust. Sure, Dad’s hurt, but he’s never allowed them to speak like that to each other before. They weren’t even allowed to tease in his presence, and that was hardly said in jest. Then it clicked. 

“It’s _you_ ,” Luke said, studying his father’s broad back. “She’s feeding off your darkness.”

“Careful, Luke. Enough right answers and I might think your poor grades are simply from lack of effort rather than… _well_ ,” the last word came out almost sweetly, laced with a demeaning smirk that Luke could feel.

Luke’s chest ached. He tried to keep his chin up. “I’m _not_ dumb.”

“The fool who fooled me, then,” his father replied.

Luke tried not to whimper, as Leia remained silently transfixed, soaking in the darkness more and more. _Right_. _Leia_. _Don’t get distracted_. He tried to reach out, but even as she stood beside him, her… her Force presence was _gone_.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, but you need to stop your anger…”

“Sith don’t contain their rage,” their father scowled.

“Maybe not, but Dads do.”

“And which do you think I am right now?”

Luke wanted to answer _a dad, above everything_ , but he felt unsure. He chewed his bottom lip as the dark thoughts swirled around him again, humming _your father is here, your sister is coming, why not join us too? Why do you resist me, when I can give you everything? Sweet boy, powerful boy. Use me to save them. I can help, I can heal, I can even…_

Luke covered his ears, _Shut! Up!_ Never, his heart rang. And for a fraction of a second, he could see his mother’s smile in his mind’s eye. _Mom_ , his chest panged, yearning for someone else to help him, to lend him strength.

His shoulder nudged forward, by an invisible hand, and he grounded himself in the Force, letting it tell him what to say. _Huh_ , that was odd. It whispered a lie to him. When had the Force ever told him to lie? He hesitated, wondering if it was the darkside masquerading as the light. But his shoulder nudged again, and he realized, lie or not, it would answer the question his father had posed.

He cleared his throat and spoke in a loud voice, “Leia’s eyes are yellow.”

“ _What_?!” their dad snapped, and jerked around to see.

As soon as he did, the dark grip on the room dissipated. Luke could just make out a fading ring of yellow in his dad’s blue eyes before it vanished completely, leaving behind only the crystal blue to which he was accustomed.

Dad ran to Leia to grab her by the arms.

Luke recoiled when he _saw_ his father’s chest. He had been sliced diagonally, from shoulder to abdomen, nearly the full length of his torso. It was _bad_. The worst Luke had ever seen. And it was barely closed by brutal looking staples.

His eyes filled with tears immediately, making his vision swim.

“Leia… Princess…” their dad’s tone was gentle as he assessed his frozen little girl. His breathing was shallow and fast. He shook his head in horror as he rubbed her arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Leia started to break out of her trance. Her face twitched, life returning to her eyes. Luke felt her Force presence returning. Her eyes began to move, scanning her father’s horrified face that was only inches from her own. Finally she moved again, throwing her arms around their father’s neck.

“ _Daddy_!” she yelped, squeezing him tightly. “I was so worried about you!”

“I’m _so_ sorry, princess,” he spoke into her hair, one hand around the back of her head, the other around her small torso. She pressed against him, and if he felt any pain along his wound, he didn’t show it as he held her.

“We love you, Daddy,” her response was fierce.

The ‘we’ made Anakin’s eyes jump open again, as he looked for Luke, turning his head gently so as not to disrupt Leia’s hold on him. He let out a sad breath as his eyes locked on his son.

Luke trembled and looked at his feet. He wanted to be glad it was over, as Leia was. He wanted to be strong and unwavering like her. At least quick to move on. But he swelled with uncertainty.

Anakin reached a hand toward Luke, asking him to come to them. It was the first time Luke glared at his father and meant it. It surprised them both.

Luke turned his eyes back to his feet, completely ashamed of himself. _What’s wrong with you?!_ he snapped at himself. _That’s your dad, good or bad… You’re a terrible son_.

“No you aren’t, Luke,” Leia said, as she pulled out of their father’s arms.

Luke batted his eyes before tears could return.

“Luke…” their father tried and offered his hand again.

Luke’s face flushed pink. His throat burned and tightened. He knew if he tried to speak, he would sob instead. He shook his head at both of them, before fleeing down the hall, out of his father’s chambers. He had had _enough_ for one night.

“Luke!” their dad called, set to go after him.

“Not right yet,” Leia said, stopping him.

Anakin was not about to argue with his small daughter about this, but she gave him such a knowing look, one far past her years that he stopped in his tracks. Sometimes, he could see Padme so clearly in her that it took his breath away.

“Later, Daddy. He needs time.”

“I have to fix…”

“ _Later_ ,” she repeated again, in a tone that left no room for argument. On any other night, he would have smirked at her, ventured a bow, and called her _your highness_. “First, you need bacta…”

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “No way.”

“You don’t have to suffer like this. You’d never let us…!”

“I’ve had enough bacta for several lifetimes.”

“And you need more now.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Leia...”

“Daddy,” she replied firmly.

He raised a brow. “This isn’t going to work on me.”

“Me neither.” She folded her arms and leveled him an unamused look. 

“Leia!” he scolded. Unbelievable. No one spoke to him like that. No one gave him orders. Except the Emperor, and apparently his eleven year old daughter.

“Daddy,” she replied again, with her nose up.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I should send you to your room.”

“You can try. But it will be easier if you just accept my help.”

“You’re too young to help me. You’ll have nightmares.”

She cocked her head at him. “I’m not Luke and you don’t scare me.”

“I’m… _sorry_ ,” he sighed. He couldn’t fight her any longer. “I wasn’t thinking clearly…”

“I know. That’s why I’m not mad - _yet_ ,” she said with an arched brow, a face that looked, again, so much like Padme. His chest sank. That was that, his resistance was broken. “But I will be if you don’t let me help you. Unlock the first-aid drawer, please.”

Leia did not so much as shudder at her father’s brutal wound. If anything, she noted, as she smeared the bacta across his poor attempt at stitches, he was the squeamish one. She knew that was because of her presence though and not the sight of blood.

The saccharine smell of bacta made Anakin’s body clench. He gritted his teeth, mentally transported back to the tank, perpetually drowning and screaming and unable to die despite the agony of his condition, and feeling those two bright spots, all that was left of Padme in the galaxy, drifting farther and farther away from him, carted off by _Obi—Drop it!_ he reminded himself.

He had just barely managed to pull out of Sith-mode. He couldn’t stand to think of that cursed name and risk falling back into the darkness. Not with Leia here, so gingerly tending to him. She was every bit the Angel her mother was, but with a dangerous dash of him. The way the darkness enthralled her… his little girl…

 _Never again_ , he thought to himself. Luke was uncomplicated in the Force, bright as the twin suns on Tatooine, but Leia… She was like him in the one way he wished she wasn’t. He had to be more careful.

Perhaps he should have just staying on his ship in the hangar until morning… Not that that would have stopped his twins from investigating. Of course it wouldn’t have… _Ugh_.

It was getting harder to keep them safe. Why did he think it would get easier? Nothing in his life ever got easier. He had expected the toddler years to be the only time he would have to fully child-proof his home. But the pre-teen years proved to be just as chockfull of child-proofing needs, the only difference was _what_ needed safety precautions. It used to be bumpers on sharp corners and locks on the cabinets and toilets bowls, lest any forgotten object be dropped in by a giggling terror.

How simple that all seemed now, when he had to worry about them disabling Threepio, breaking his best locks, or other general Force-related nonsense, like the time when Luke had floated his model ships off of the balcony’s ledge to put on an aerial show for Leia – as if that wouldn’t raise alarms to the Emperor. He could still cringe at all the memories he had to wipe after that display. He was _so proud_ and yet _so irritated_ by how strong in the Force his babies had become. Those clever little troublemakers.

“Better?” Leia asked kindly, as she looked up at his troubled face.

He forced a smile and a gentle nod. “Much better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! ~Thank you for reading~
> 
> In the next Chapter, see where Luke flees to (featuring a saucy little astromech), and the words the children have with their father about poor self care habits. 
> 
> Still to come, the dreams that follow, aka Luke is going on a Force-journey to learn about the ghosts that haunt his father. 
> 
> The night is far from over!


	3. Faulty Wiring

Luke didn’t run to his room. He hardly even thought about where he ought to go, he just acted, following his instincts. He was aching, so the innermost desire for comfort overtook him and guided him somewhere else; somewhere he wouldn’t feel trapped and secluded.

His body raced right past his room, even as his vision was obscured by tears. His feet would know the way, even in the dark.

When he got to the entrance doors, he didn’t wonder if his Force exertion would be strong enough, he just _did_ it. He called on the Force to open them, and the Force obeyed. He continued his dash down the outer hall to the hangar, where he spied his favorite silver and blue astromech, frozen in the center of the bay. Ignoring the impressive collection of ships, he beelined for R2D2.

“Artoo!” he called, voice childish and tear strained.

He leapt on the little droid, hugging it with all his might, just like he used to when he was five and still small enough to cling on for a ride, at least until his father would reach out with the Force and levitate Luke back to his own two feet for a scolding. _You could hurt yourself_ , he could still hear the admonishment.

Artoo neither moved nor responded. Luke closed his eyes and used the Force to find Artoo’s disablement and released it.

The little bot _whrrrd_ back to life, lighting up and beeping as if it were still yelling at his father. It must have been midsentence when Dad triggered the freeze, because the bot immediately fired, _gears on the ships are in better shape than you! What good is a broken pilot?!_

Artoo became aware of the whimpering eleven-year-old clinging to his side and stopped. Luke wondered if he should explain himself or apologize to the droid. But Artoo seemed to get it.

 _Water leak because of Pilot?_ The bot beeped in binary.

Luke couldn’t reply in binary, but he understood it perfectly, almost as well as he understood Basic. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and as a warm smile came across his face. _Thank the Force for Artoo_.

“Yeah, I guess… He wasn’t in the best mood tonight...”

_Pilot is in need of immediate repairs._

“Don’t worry, Artoo. I think Leia fixed him.”

_Princess is not a human-mechanic._

“ _Doctor_ , Artoo,” Luke tried to correct. “And she’s not really a princess… If you and Dad keep calling her that, it’s gonna go to her head. And, look, she probably got him to use bacta at least. Maybe we can convince him to get a new med-droid tomorrow.”

Artoo beeped affirmatively. That seemed to quell the little bot’s concerns.

Luke sniffled, as he thought about the wound again and the frozen landscape his injured dad had built so easily. Luke knew he was a Sith, just like the Emperor, but sometimes when he was just Dad, it was easy to forget.

 _Small Pilot._ Artoo beeped for Luke’s attention. _Reset yourself. You are struggling with human sadness._

Luke smirked and sniffled again. “I wish it were that easy, Artoo.” He patted the top of Artoo’s dome.

_Pilot’s software is corrupted. I blame his organic yet volatile nature for allowing the virus in his system. He would benefit from a full wipe and reload of a prior operating system._

Luke agreed, as the thought entranced him for a moment. Wouldn’t it be cool if you could restore someone to their previous version, before all the problems started? They could reset Dad to _CloneWars2.0_ and just skip the whole _Mustafar2BactaSith3.0_ coding all together. His smile faded as he wondered if _CloneWars-_ Dad would like him anymore than _SithEra_ -Dad did.

“I—do you think,” the question knotted in his throat. But Artoo and the Force were the only things that never lied to him. His cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. Honestly, he shouldn’t even need to ask! “Am I dumb, Artoo?”

_Why would Small Pilot wonder this?_

“Because maybe Small Pilot doesn’t get the _best_ grades in school and maybe because Big Pilot said something tonight…”

_Pilot is malfunctioning. His words cannot be taken at face value._

“You’re avoiding my question, Artoo.”

 _Small Pilot is unorganized and easily distracted._ The bot replied. _But *never* dumb._

“But Dad said…”

_You must delete those lines from your memory bank. Pilot’s faulty programming is not Small Pilot’s error._

“But it is my fault, Artoo,” Luke said softly as he looked down at the floor. “I couldn’t stop Leia. And I know she needed to see he was okay for herself, but when he’s like that… I don’t _know_ him when he’s like that. And I hate seeing it because it makes me wonder… What if that _is_ him? And he’s just faking it with us? What if he becomes that way more and more? What if…”

_Pilot’s code is corrupted by the unknown virus, but he is still Pilot. And Pilot would do anything for Princess and Small Pilot._

“Yeah,” Luke replied glumly, unconvinced, “Thanks, Artoo.” He did appreciate the bot’s attempt at cheering him up. Luke stood back up and tried to smile at the droid again. “So, did you fix everything on the shuttle?” he asked eagerly, hoping that there might be something left for him to work on.

 _Are you calling me incompetent?_ Artoo asked dryly.

Luke laughed, “Artoo!”

 _I always save something for you, Small Pilot_.

\----

Leia had finished applying the bacta and was now bandaging her reluctant father. She had forced him to sit back on his bed so she could tend to him easier. She carefully measured and cut strips of the cloth that would sit atop the bacta and help it absorb. It was specially designed to stick without pulling anything, but her father still seemed edgy about it. She laid a long strip directly on the center of the wound, but then added shorter strips to either side, ensuring it was fully covered and secured.

She nodded to herself, satisfied with her handywork.

“All set, Daddy,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his. His blue eyes were full of appreciation and awe. His hardened, scarred faced always seemed to melt when he looked at her. She smiled at him and patted his head to tease him, running her fingers across the top of his the dark blonde military-cropped hair, just barely graying around the temples. He pulled her hand away and smiled fully. She smiled back and felt like she had won – getting him to smile like that, especially after everything today.

“Thank you, Princess. It feels even better than before it happened.”

She rolled her eyes as the Force whispered _lie._

“So, how did it happen?”

Anakin gave an amused snort, “Nice try, short stuff.”

She gave him a miffed smile, but wasn’t too disappointed. She wasn’t actually expecting that to work. He rarely spoke about his work at ISB, and never if it included a visit to the detention center. Not that she really wanted to hear about the detention center. That never lead to any sort of pleasant conversation between her and her father. He had a hard time being angry at her, which she was well away of, and used to her advantage often, but he was firm on what his duties were. She didn’t think they would ever see eye to eye on that.

“Now, let’s find your brother,” their dad said, as he reached out in the Force.

He winced when he found Luke’s bedroom empty. Quickly, his presence spread through their entire flat. The relief was instant when he found his son in the hangar, although quickly replaced by aggravation. Luke knew he was not allowed in the hangar without his father.

Anakin lifted himself to his feet. Leia put her hands out, reminding him to take it easy. He gave her a nod in lieu of a promise, and put his gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her out of his chambers and to her own bedroom door. He put a kiss on her head and said, “Get ready for bed. I’ll be back after I get your brother.”

“Is he in the hangar?” she asked bluntly.

“That obvious?”

“Where else would he go?” she said with a shrug.

“Well, ideally to his room, for _bed_. You know, as you two should have done _hours ago_.”

She batted her eyes at him innocently as she lifted her chin. “I’m certain I have no idea what you’re talking about, Father.” Her voice was proud yet playful.

“My mistake, your highness,” he teased with a shake of his head. “Alright, off you go.”

Her door hissed open and she bolted in, leaving him to roll his eyes.

 _One down, one to go_.

As he walked toward the hangar, he sensed a trail of sorrow and exhaustion. He frowned, knowing the source, and tried to recall what he had told his son earlier, if he had threatened him or something like that. He cringed, recalling another time when his son had found him deep in the darkside, and he had told the boy his Force-potential was wasted on one so bright. He wasn’t sure why he said it, since it was his decision not to train either of his children in the darkside of the Force. They were to remain light, if he had anything to say about it. Still, the darkside spoke through him. And then retreated, leaving him to pick up the pieces. What a mess that had been. 

He hated hurting his children. It would be so much easier not to if he weren’t, well, a Sith. But if he had remained the unthinkable…a _jedi_ , so weak and arrogant and mislead, a slave to lesser masters, what would stand between Palpatine and his twins? His Master was no fool. He was the most terribly brilliant being in the galaxy. Whatever he desired, he claimed or created. The Jedi stood no chance against him. If he hadn’t turned, they would have been wiped out too. Or perhaps… his little Luke or Leia would be in his shoes, mangled by the darkness, forced to serve or suffer (ideally both, if Sidious had his way).

Anakin’s heart ached, as his mind skipped to Padme. Truly he might not have minded dying a Jedi if he could have died with her – had she not been pregnant. He couldn’t abandon their children in this world. At least not while Sidious lived…

But even if he managed to kill his Master, what then? It wasn’t like Anakin never thought about killing him. But then _he_ would be the Master of the darkside. How could he ever face his twins after that? How could he trust himself not to sink further in, and try to take them as his apprentices?

He shook his head like a wet dog at the thought. _Never_. He was sure his mind would torment him with these thoughts later tonight anyway, as he inevitably would lay awake in his misery, unable to sleep. But now, he was nearly at the hangar, and it was time to put his fatherly face back on, and see what he could do about getting his son to bed. 

The hangar was fully lit, indicating motion within, and Anakin could hear the tinkering of metal and chatting of one son and one astromech. He sent a poke down their Force bond. He felt his son reel in surprise, and then heard a thud, followed by an, “Ouch!”

_Luke!_

_I’m fine..._

_What was that?!_

_You surprised me! I just… hit my head…_

_Come out here._

_…No, that’s okay…_

_It wasn’t a request._

_When is it ever?!_

_Young man, I am not amused. Now come!_

He heard a loud, dramatic sigh fill the air, before he saw his son trudging out from behind his shuttle, followed by Artoo, who was naturally reactivated. But that would be a conversation for another time.

As the duo approached, Anakin wagged a gloved finger at them and admonished, “Luke, I don’t care how angry you are with me, it’s not an excuse to break the rules!”

Luke stopped in his tracks and balled his hands at his sides defiantly. “I didn’t!”

The boy looked crabby from head to toe, with his confidence boosted by the blue and silver droid at his hip. Anakin wanted to groan. He was hoping for a quick apology and then off to bed, but clearly that was not going to happen.

“You know damn well you’re not allowed in the hangar without supervision.”

“But Artoo’s right here!”

 _Sadly, without a fix for your faulty wiring,_ Artoo beeped.

Anakin cast his glare to the little bot. “Ah yes, I’ve got a restraining bolt with your name on it.”

Artoo _whrrrd_ with offense and beeped out a slew of Huttese curses, leaving Anakin slightly amused and very glad he never taught the children his mother tongue. Anakin ignored the disgruntled astromech and fixed his stare back on his child.

“Luke, I know you’re upset…”

Luke huffed, unwilling to be scolded without a fight, and interrupted his father, “The last time I closed myself off from you because I was hurt, you grounded me _for a month_! Longer than any other time!”

“That’s different…”

“Only cause you decided it is!” he argued and folded his arms to sulk.

 _Damn that pout_ , Anakin sighed, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. It was hard to be stern when his kids were that adorable. Of course this seemed unfair to his son. How could he explain it to a child? He made his tone sweet and gentle to say, “Lukey, it _is_ different, because I’m the daddy and I take care of _you_. It isn’t supposed to be the other way around.”

Luke’s eyes widened into an irritated stare, just a step before an eye roll.

Artoo beeped, _Pilot is unfit to make judgement calls in his current status. Needs extensive repairs._

He sent the bot a glare. “Artoo, I’m _not_ broken. Stop telling my son that!”

_If not in need of systems check, then why malfunctioning?_

“I’m not malfun—I’m not arguing with you! Don’t forget who programmed you.”

_Picking on Small Pilot is a serious malfunction._

“ _Force_ help me, Artoo,” he said with a threatening shake of his head. “I wonder if there’s a record out there for number of restraining bolts fit on a single astromech...”

Artoo began to cuss Anakin out again.

“Leave him alone!” Luke jumped in with a stomp of his foot before his father could speak again. “At least Artoo likes me!”

Anakin narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Luke looked at the floor and grumped, “Never mind, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Luke…”

“Just never mind!” his son exploded.

Anakin felt this argument had reached a place of pointlessness. Leia was much more articulate than her brother and it was far easier to talk her down; she had always been that way. Luke, on the other hand, needed an activity to focus on to help him calm down. But it was nearly 01:30. The only acceptable activity would be sleep and they could try this again in the morning.

“Alright, that’s enough. Time for bed. Long overdue, come on,” he said, summoning his child with an impatient twirling of his wrist.

Luke groaned and walked with shoulders slumped towards his dad. 

“Artoo, charging station,” Anakin ordered, pointing a finger to the bot’s designated spot. As his son reluctantly neared him, Anakin attempted a peace offering of humor, “Luke, _charging station_ ,” gesturing to the hall.

Normally that would have drawn an irritated _daaad_ , but Luke ignored the joke and stormed to his room. Anakin waited to see that Artoo did in fact move to his station, and then turned to follow his gloomy child at a distance. He tried not to despair, even as that voice inside him jabbed _why are you only good at hurting the ones you love?_

Luke began dragging his feet as they neared his door. Anakin sensed the weary protested before it came. Now that his pain had subsided, he opened himself fully to the bond with his children, beyond just quick communications, and felt Luke swimming in uncertainty and frustration, wanting both to yell at his father and weep in his arms. This felt oddly similar to an overly tired toddler in desperate need of a nap before a meltdown.

Anakin put his hands gently on his son’s shoulders, guiding him forward until they reached the door. He turned the boy around and spoke before the child could, “Pajamas, teeth, bed – clear?”

Luke’s chin crumpled. He blinked back tears of exhaustion and nodded.

Anakin brushed his flesh thumb across one of his son’s cheeks and said a gentle, “Good boy. I’m going to say goodnight to your sister and then I’ll be back to say goodnight to you.”

 _Say Goodnight_ was the pre-teen version of “tucking in.” The twins no longer accepted being “tucked in,” even though little in the routine had changed. He wasn’t telling stories quiet as often as he used to, but they were requested at least a few times per week.

Luke disappeared in his bedroom, leaving Anakin to move back to Leia’s door and see to her.

“Leia?” he called, as he entered.

It was so much more orderly than Luke’s room. It gave him a sense of relief every time he entered. Leia came out of her ‘fresher at her father’s call. She was in her pajamas with her hair fixed into two sleeping braids.

“Teeth?”

“Brushed,” she replied, as she went to her bed and pulled back the neatly made spread.

She climbed in and looked at her father expectantly. He sat at her side and studied her face. There was something irked in her expression. She certainly didn’t look like a child about to fall asleep. He tried to get ahead of the protest.

“It’s very late… _Goodnight_ , my girl,” he said, as he pulled her blankets to just below her chin.

“No, Daddy, it’s not fair,” Leia said, pushing the blankets away to sit up.

Anakin grimaced. “I thought we agreed you were done reprimanding daddy for the evening.”

“But you have to hear it because I don’t want to forget and it’s important.”

He frowned and petted her head. “Okay, little angel. But then it’s bedtime. What do you need to tell me?”

“It’s just… Daddy, we love you. And when you don’t take care of yourself, it hurts us. Just like it hurts you to see us sad. But we don’t get a choice, so you have to make better ones… Even if it’s just for me and Luke.”

“Leia…”

“Promise,” she insisted.

“Promise what, exactly?” he asked. He hated making promises he couldn’t keep. He had already broken a few today. He wasn’t about to set himself up for any more failure in her eyes.

“That you’ll take better care of yourself. That you’ll use bacta when you have to. And sometimes see a doctor.”

“Princess…”

“Daddy, this should be the easiest thing I ever ask you for.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I promise. Now, please, for the love of the Force, go to bed, okay? I love you, Leia. Thank you for taking care of me tonight. Sweet dreams, my good girl.”

She smiled at him, as if all the weight on her was alleviated. She laid back down and let him tuck her in. “I love you too, Daddy. Goodnight.”

He stood, bending once to place a kiss on her forehead. She snuggled herself down for the night and closed her eyes. He sent soothing feelings down their bond as he flicked off her light. He could feel how tired she was becoming and knew she would be out quickly.

_Thank the Force… Now for Luke…_

Anakin entered his son’s room without announcing himself. The room was a mess. Toys and knickknacks everywhere, clothes and towels tossed on the floor, data pads stacked without any semblance of organization… Anakin shook his head. Another discussion for the morning. He couldn’t very well scold his son for a room that looked like a tornado had struck it, when his own quarters were still coated in quickly melting ice.

All that mattered right now was bed anyway… Anakin looked at the unmade spread, a twisted bundle of sheets strewn from mat to floor, and sighed. Luke was still brushing his teeth, so he decided to take care of it himself. He pulled apart the tangled blankets and neatly laid the sheet, then the medium weight blanket, then the puff. He smoothed it out, as Luke exited the ‘fresher, thankfully in his pajamas already because Anakin wasn’t sure he had any more patience left for the evening.

“Thank you for making my bed, Daddy,” the boy said blushingly.

 _At least he has the decency to be embarrassed by this mess,_ Anakin thought.

“In,” he replied.

Luke seemed relieved he wasn’t getting a scolding. He plopped himself onto the bed and let his father tuck him in. His face was troubled in the way his sister’s had been, but he didn’t have the desire to talk. Still, Anakin didn’t want him to lay there stewing rather than sleeping.

Anakin put his hand on the back of his son’s head and began gently scratching, something that always helped Luke fall asleep. It was like magic. He saw his son’s eyelids droop.

He stopped the petting to say, “I’m sorry for tonight, son. I’ll—be better, in the future.”

Luke didn’t reply to his dad. He didn’t even look at him. His tired face seemed… jaded?

“I love you,” Anakin said.

Luke looked somewhere else, refusing to look at his dad. Oddly, that hurt the same as the refused hugs.

“Luke?”

Tentatively, Luke’s eyes darted at his Dad for a moment, and then picked another new place to settle.

Anakin’s chest ached. “Luke, I’m sorry. If I could change everything about tonight, I would… I’m sorry I upset you…”

“You called me dumb,” the boy finally spoke.

“I—what?”

“The Force didn’t say it was a lie. You don’t think I’m smart. You think I’m dumb.”

“Lukey… of course not. I’m…”

“Don’t say sorry again. I don’t care if you’re sorry or not.”

Anakin let out a weary breath as he watched two fat tears roll down his son’s hurt face. It didn’t suit Luke, to be so upset. He tried to swallow against the knot in his throat. Leave it to him to dim the brightest light in the galaxy. He felt like a monster… no, worse. _Vader_.

“You don’t have to accept my apology. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I hope you know how proud I am of you.”

“Proud?!” Luke sat up indignantly.

“I know you’re smart, son. It’s just not always easy for you to keep your focus at school…”

“But I _do_ try,” Luke insisted.

It wasn’t as if it were some whimsical experience for him to trapse around the halls of the Academy. He was bullied, constantly. If his mind was elsewhere, it was on how to survive the day… Okay, sometimes it was an indulgence; a day-dream of flying, or digging into mechanical texts instead of studying for his history quiz, because those brief little pauses made it possible for him to get through the week. And then he would scold himself, feeling so low and guilty for average or substandard grades. He wanted to do well. He _meant_ to. But it always seemed to escape him.

“I know you try, I know,” Anakin reassured him. “I hate myself for saying that to you. It was cruel and unfair…”

“The Force didn’t say it was a lie.”

“Because it wasn’t said to pass as truth. It was meant to hurt. Which is not to justify it, but when I was in that space… All I wanted was to frighten you two away, so you wouldn’t have to see me like that… Or, Force-forbid you somehow break through my shields while I’m distracted… I didn’t want either of my little stars to feel the kind of pain I was in.”

Luke didn’t seem convinced as he studied his floor, working up the courage to say, “But you hurt me anyway.”

“I know,” Anakin said and petted his son’s head. “And it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, just as long as you know I love you.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” the boy said sullenly.

“Luke, how many eleven-year-olds do you know that can help Artoo patch up a hyperdrive, understand fluent binary, or can fix Threepio’s hand? Just because you don’t get the best grades doesn’t make you dumb, Luke. The only dumb one here tonight is daddy’s mouth.”

“Yeah,” Luke said softly, as some of his sadness began to lift.

Anakin began scratching again his hand on his boy’s neck, watching tired eyes flutter shut.

“Do you think you can fall asleep on your own, little star?”

The boy gave a shrug.

“Okay, let’s seal the deal then,” Anakin said and closed his eyes, reaching down the bond to guide his son to sleep. His Force presence wrapped around Luke’s, soothingly, rather than intrusive, lulling his son gently into the meditative state.

Luke was too tired to resist. His father brought him to their spot: a warm, grassy field overlooking a pristine lake, with a powder blue sky and gently moving silver clouds. He smelled the familiar air, woody and crisp, with a hint of citrus, and felt the sunbeams kiss his neck. Luke wasn’t sure if that place was real or fully built by Dad, but it had been the spot Anakin always used to transition his children to sleep. 

_Goodnight, my sweet boy,_ his father said, and before he could protest being called sweet ( _gross!_ ), he felt his father’s _Sleep_ command enter his mind. He imagined it was like firmly blowing out a candle, which is how it felt on his end. Just like that, he was out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!  
> And, thanks for reading!
> 
> (This chapter was put together on the faster side for my pacing, so sorry if there are any redundancies or typos, I will keep editing it as I find them!)
> 
> Up next - What do Sithies dream of, when they take a little Sithie-snooze? 
> 
> Force Journey is in the next chapter!


	4. Now, do it again!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's perfect dream gets interrupted. He goes off to investigate why and ends up somewhere he shouldn't be.

The dream that took Luke… was _awesome_!

It was his greatest fantasy come to life, he was racing with Dad. They were together, Pilot and Co-Pilot (and Dad had even let _him_ be the Pilot), racing against Leia and Mom… well, his _dream_ -Mom. The one his mind constructed from the few holos Artoo had and the rare anecdotes Dad shared over the years.

The planet was… Tatooine? Maybe? A great big desert with two bright suns, and a race track for their silver, shinning speeders – top of the line Imperial models. Each impeccably clean and high-tech; the sort he saw at the concept shows his dad let him attend.  
  


He knew this race track was way nicer than the real one had been. He had begged Dad to take them to Tatooine so he could see for himself the Boonta Eve Classic. His father had nearly choked on his dinner at the suggestion. Guess what the answer had been. _Ugh_.

But that didn’t matter now because here they were, all four of them, racing as a family. For fun, sure, but Luke wanted to _win_. He wanted his dad to see what he could do. They worked as the perfect team, driving and adjusting, charting and planning, to make their trip through the hurdles the most precise and speed-efficient. They were _going_ to win, his father assured him with a smile.

He looked over at the other speeder coming up to his left on the outer curve of the track, to catch a glimpse of his mother, who stood beside Leia, guiding her. She mostly looked like a grown-up version of his sister, but she dressed like a Queen, not a tomboy. Her hair was woven in ornate braids, like they were in his favorite holo of her. He wanted to speak to her, to hear her voice. But he never got that to her close in his dreams. And he knew this was a dream… But hey, he’d take it. He never wanted to wake up from this. Even if he couldn’t touch her or speak to her, she was _here_ , with them, as she always should have been… if it weren’t for the Emp…

_No_ , he scolded himself, _don’t let him in here. Don’t let him ruin this... Don’t let him take her from you twice_ …

He looked at his father’s warm face, blue eyes that mirrored his own, twinkling with pride, and refocused on the task at hand. His father squeezed his shoulder with his flesh hand, as if to say _good job, son_. Luke grinned, pushing his speeder faster through the next stomach-swooping turn.

He was proud of himself too, no longer afraid that the Emperor might somehow slip into this dream. He was in control - of the speeder, of his dream. And his family was here with him.

He couldn’t ask for more.

Luke looked back at his mother and sister again, and winning suddenly didn’t seem so important. He decided to let them catch up. It was the least he could do to say thanks to his sister, who was always there for him, even when he didn’t want her to be. He then looked to see if his father’s mood might change, if he might be disappointed to see his son let his sister win, but his father was smiling wider, beaming from ear to ear, in complete approval.

“I’m _so_ proud of you, Luke.”

“Thanks Dad,” he said, and opened their bond.

Maybe it was self-indulgent, to want to feel that pride pour over him and bask in it, but he couldn’t resist. After all the fighting tonight, he needed it. He opened the bond expecting the happy emotions of his dream-Dad.

But that isn’t want he got.

_Hatred, torment, fury_ – it all swelled around him, nearly choking the air from his lungs.

“Son?” dream-Dad asked cautiously, concern splashed across his face.

Time seemed to slow down and his vision became splotchy. He tried to close the bond, but he wasn’t strong enough to push back against it. 

Luke sputtered on the darkness, losing control of his speeder… and _crashed_.

\----

“Dad!” Luke yelped, as he sat up in his bed.

He drew a deep breath against all the pain around him, focused his energy and shut the bond. _Holy Force!_ He panted, hands still trembling from the shock of it all, before checking his nightstand for the time. _3:45? Is Dad still up?_

He jumped out of bed and quickly padded out of his room. He was grateful for the closed bond again. That was way too intense to allow him to think clearly. He was lucky this time – sometimes when he felt the Force that strong, he needed his father to pull him out of it. But this time he managed on his own. _Thank the Stars_.

He wasn’t about to risk opening it again just to find him, so he poked around the common area. First he checked the conference room, where his dad often worked late nights. Lots of data pads? _Check_. Dad? _Nope_. He then checked the kitchen, where he was _almost_ tempted to get a midnight snack. But no. Not now. He needed to see Dad. His stomach could wait.

He went back down the hall to peak into his father’s quarters for the second time in one night, as a tingle ran down his spine. What if Dad wasn’t here at all? What if what he felt was the Emperor punishing him for his failures? Luke had experienced that once before. It was several years ago - His father had made them both promise to keep their bonds closed and their shields up while he went to see his master, but Luke had become nervous. He was only six or seven then, and deeply clingy to Anakin. He had meant only to peak, but it had been mid Force-lightening blow. He never forgot that pain. And worst of all, he knew it still went on and there was nothing he could do about it… Well, at least not yet.

The door wasn’t locked this time, but it still felt a difficult barrier to cross without Leia’s brash urgings. He managed to swallow his own fear and told himself his dad was probably fine, and he was just experiencing a nightmare. Yeah, maybe…

He softly navigated the hall, expecting water puddles left behind from earlier, but the quarters seemed fully cleaned, verging on sterile. He used the Force to sharpen his eyesight to see in the dark as he reached his father’s sleeping quarters. He could make outline of the rug, the furniture, and finally his father’s form, normally so tall and imposing, but right now, just peaceful, laying motionless in his bed.

Luke would have sighed with relief if his father weren’t such a light sleeper. He was about to go back to bed, but something… didn’t _feel_ right. He weighed his options, and grimaced. He knew his dad would tell him not to, but he had to open their bond one more time, just to be sure he was really okay… even if it hurt. Leia would do it. He took a deep breath and reminded himself of the way out, if it became overwhelming again. _Be like Leia, be a rock_.

He approached his father’s bedside and searched the man’s face. He looked stoic and proud, even while sleeping. Luke could barely see the scar across his eye even with his Force-enhanced vision. But he could make out the occasional lip twitch. _Definitely dreaming_ , Luke thought. But the only thing that alluded to an unpleasant dream was the uneven breaths his father took. He wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong, if it hadn’t been for that feeling that had woken him. 

Luke took a deep breath and grounded his feet firmly. _Just a peak_ , he told himself, as he held his hands over his father, and began to push against his Force-presence. _Dang_ , he thought, as he pressed again sky-high black walls around his father’s mind. How did he manage that kind of control, even while sleeping? These were the moments when he swore Leia was the mini-me, not him. He constantly heard how much he looked like their father – and sure, it was true. Plus they both loved flying. But other than those two things, it was Leia and Dad who were most similar. Fiercely protective, deeply centered, and a bit too serious for Luke’s taste, but hey, no one’s perfect.

Luke’s eyes continued adjusting to the light (or lack of) and he began to see his father’s scars more clearly, beyond just the big one across his eye. His father’s body was littered with scars and burns of varying sizes. It was such a stark contrast to Leia and him. Whenever they got injured, even just a scratch, their father liberally applied bacta. Luke knew it was because he cared so much for them and protecting them was how he showed it. But Luke wished his father would show himself even a fraction of the compassion he showed them. He hoped Leia got through to him this time.

_Focus_ , Luke told himself, as he closed his eyes and breathed. _Focus_. _Like a rock_. _Grounded, even, strong. Now let it flow…_

He cracked open their Force-bond and entered the meditative world inbetween. It was like walking through an alternate reality. He was standing in a void of endless darkness, a starless sky at his back and the fortress of his father’s mind before him. Those dark, towering walls were high and normally impregnable, but they were beginning to fracture from pressue. Cracks opened and erupted outward, like little volcanos of anger and ice, shooting dark beams into the air.

Luke gritted his teeth and found his feet, then pushed – with everything he had. Pushed the darkness that tried to surround him, back, back, away from the opening in the wall, where steaming pyres of resentment and betrayal bloomed. He covered his mouth with his sleeve, as if that could keep him from breathing in his father’s darkness. _Push, push_ , he focused, clearing a path and moving forward at a slow and steady pace.

_Left foot, right foot, push_ , became his rhythm, as he neared the gap, and finally passed through it, and tumbled through the void, deep into his father’s dream. As he fell, he thought of Leia and his dream-Mother, safe somewhere in a ship, together, and felt his own bright center prevail. _Thanks Leia, thanks Mom_ , he whispered inside.

He hit the earth with a thud, then scrambled quickly to his feet and dusted himself off. His eyes batted as he looked around this bizarre world. Wherever he had landed, it was midnight under a smoke-riddled sky of red. The air smelled like sulfur and it was _hot_.

_Force_ , he cursed as he grabbed his shirt and flapped it a few times to vent some of the heat.

He looked around, _where is this place_? _Is that… a river of lava_?! _And he says *I’m* dramatic_ …

River of lava… was that familiar somehow? He wondered along the river’s edge, careful not to touch it. He was mostly sure that he couldn’t get hurt in a dream, but this wasn’t _his_ dream. This was his Father’s. And he couldn’t be certain that someone as strong in the Force as his Dad couldn’t recreate true danger even in dream plains.

“Dad?” he called out, looking around for any sign of life, or other sentient beings. Mainly he saw droids and cranes and other industrial looking machinery. No humans. He quickened his paced, marching along until he spotted an outpost. There, perfect!

He started running towards the bunker and the landing zone occupied by a beautiful… wait… wasn’t that the same ship as… His father kept that ship in the hangar, covered by a tarp, under strict orders that no one should touch it. Of course he had _peaked_ but he didn’t dare ask about it, despite his curiosity eating at him. Why had his father kept it for all these years without letting anyone touch or fly it, or explain its origin? 

Luke leapt up on the landing strip and saw people! Yes! He wanted to celebrate, but he quickly realized he knew these people… _Dad!_ He wanted to call out, when he saw his dad standing there, facing him. He looked different, younger, a bit slighter in build, and had long hair like Luke's. He was speaking in an agitated voice to a woman… with brown hair… he couldn’t see her face but… _Mom?!_ It had to be!

He crouched by the ship to listen. He didn’t want to intrude, anyway, he knew how much his father missed his mother. Maybe after they spoke for a bit…he could say hi. Luke’s heart soared at the idea. Maybe his dream-version of his mother couldn’t speak to him or hug him because he hadn’t known her in real life…but maybe Father’s version of Mother could! He’d wait for the right time and…

“Anakin,” a tearful, light voice whimpered, “You’re breaking my heart… You’re going down a path I can’t follow…”

_Wait, what_?! Luke’s mind spun. He watched them, his mother’s back to him. He could see she was trembling, as the younger version of his father fumed and paced.

He missed a few of the words, before hearing his father _shout_ , “Liar!!”

“No!” his mother yelped, backing up, as his father started to approach the ship.

Had he been found? Maybe he was the one in trouble? Though he’d never seen his father look at him like that…

“You’re with him! You brought him here to _kill me_!” Father shouted, and then raised his gloved hand at her.

Something was wrong. Nothing happened. His father’s face was a mess of emotions, twitching, trembling, _crying_ …

“I can’t… Please make it stop… I can’t…” his voice broke.

Mother didn’t reply, she remained frozen, as if the dream had paused.

“You _must_ ,” another said. It was his father’s voice, but it didn’t come from…

Luke’s eyes widened, as his fingers gripped his perch by the ship, as if that could hold him into his spot. He was seeing _double_. Another version of his father came on the scene, one he recognized more - his version, older, stronger, short cut hair. He approached the teary version and smirked. Luke then saw the Sith-yellow eyes, glowing like trapped molten amber, on the second man’s face. He suppressed a gasp as the muscles in his body clenched. 

“You know as well as I do you deserve this. A preview of your past and _future_ …” His Sith-dad grinned at the younger version of himself. He walked a predatory circle around the other as he crooned, “Stay alive, Anakin, as long as you can. Because as soon as you die, this is the moment in which you shall dwell for all eternity. Now, _do it again_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took much longer than intended to post. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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